


Dragon Cursed

by morrezela



Series: Dragon Touched [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Angst, Dragons, M/M, Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:19:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a dragon-mate comes of age, the scales of their intended grow upon their skin. Jared has been plagued with this curse, but fight as he might, he cannot overcome it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This isn’t real. The people mentioned belong to themselves. I am receiving no remuneration from this.
> 
> Warnings: dragon fic, mystical spell mating, intolerance, self-injury
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: This was written for one of the winners in my Stump Me meme. I also used it to fill in a square on my hurt/comfort bingo card. The square is ‘cursed.’
> 
> This is a companion piece to Dragon Touched from Jared’s perspective. It isn’t exactly happy.
> 
>  
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

The dragon was beautiful, that much Jared had no doubts over. The way that his dark blues scales covered his back and sides but gave way to a startlingly silver underside made him more striking than any painting Jared had ever seen of dragon kind. And Jared was a virtual expert on dragon paintings. He had stared at every one that he’d ever come across.

Just thinking about the first time that he’d seen one made his blood burn with shame and excitement. Jared had been young, barely into puberty, when his father had taken him to a market to show him what the Beasts of Lechery looked like. Everybody in the village knew the vile and despicable curse that had been placed on the humans by dragons. Jared had grown up listening to the stories.

But with Jared approaching adulthood, he was deemed old enough to look at the face of evil. He had to know, his father had explained, what the enemy looked like. In his boy’s imagination, Jared had thought that a dragon might look rather like a snake with bird’s wings. He couldn’t have been more wrong. When the tarp had been pulled away from the canvas that day, he had been confronted with a creature more beautiful to him than any he had ever laid eyes on. While the others his age had mocked and scorned the green scaled dragon in the painting, Jared’s skin had flushed. He had caught himself admiring the arch of its neck and the fine snout that accentuated its face.

He cannot ever forget that day. Try as he did to live in denial, his scales came in as he reached his majority. At first they ached and were tender. Covering them with cloth caused pain to shoot up and down in spine, but he knew that he had no choice. Death would come swiftly if any in his village saw the marks of a dragon on him. It would be a mercy killing, but Jared was too much of a coward to part with his life.

Jared had tried knives and fire and acids to rid his skin of its dragon’s mark, but the scales only ever grew back glossier and healthier than before. It was as if they thrived on the adversity he heaped on them. Over time, they began to hurt less, but they didn’t become deadened to touch like Jared had always thought they would be.

Pleasure could be had from touching them. It was a revelation that Jared had not been ready to have, and it was only by accident that he learned it. Once learned, he had kept his hands as far away from those betraying patches of skin as he possibly could. But… sometimes he could not help himself. The temptation would become too great, and he would succumb to it. His fingers would inch under his dressing gown at night to stroke over the dark blue surface. Pillows became his friends as he would bite down on them while he touched and stroked until he came to his completion.

Worse than the scales was the obsessive desire that grew to look at the paintings of dragons. It was a horrible, twisted need that Jared couldn’t stop. No man or woman’s form pleased him nearly as much as a painting of a dragon could. The hideous and vicious beasts thrilled him in a base and dirty way. Jared knew it was wrong, but he could only stay away from the pictures for so long before his craving became unbearable.

If Jared had been more of an upright man, he would have turned himself in to the authorities of his village. They would have taken care of him, and his family would have said goodbye and mourned him. Jared could have brought good into the world and become a martyr to the cause against dragons, but instead he ran.

There was only so long that Jared could remain unattached before suspicions would arise. Worse, Jared was known for his hotter than normal temperature and fondness for wearing as little as was socially acceptable. His sudden need to conceal himself from prying eyes with long sleeves and layers had garnered him more than a few suspicious glances.

Given the choice between lying, leaving and living or honesty, staying and dying, Jared chose living. He told his family and village that he had wanderlust. He told falsehood after falsehood about wanting to go spread the word about the evils of dragons. Adoration and encouragement had been heaped on his head like golden laurels instead of the damnations that they were. Yet all Jared could do was hold his tongue if he wanted to keep his breath in his body.

Life had gone well for him when he had arrived in his new village, but he’d quickly moved on. Then he had moved again. A few more moves after that had been required to make him feel safe and secure. The village he had finally settled in was not as zealous against dragons as others were. There were still factions dedicated to eliminating the touched, but they were not the overwhelming majority.

Jared still belonged to the cause, still gave his monthly tithes to the anti-dragon organizations, but he managed to slip out of more meetings than not. Not being in the assemblies made him feel like less of a hypocrite, but he did not dare cease attendance completely. There was no way that he would not be missed, and he couldn’t afford any suspicion.

He had been so careful only to have it all fall down around him like a poorly built shack. When Thomas had attacked him, Jared had actually felt a measure of relief. His lie was over. His constant torture would soon be gone, and he would no longer have to struggle with the ever present lust he felt.

Only Thomas hadn’t killed him because the dragon had come to his rescue. And now Jared was more terrified than he had ever been. He knew what happened to the men and women that were taken to dragon caves. He knew how they became whores to the creatures, performing base acts of lust and debauchery.

Jared knew that he should leave. The dragon was gone from its lair often enough that he could at least make an attempt to escape, but where could he go? He had nothing of his own aside from the clothes that he had been wearing when the dragon ‘rescued’ him from the end that should have been his. Certainly the dragon had tried to give Jared nice clothes and a warm bed, but Jared had been careful to only accept food from the beast.

Even sustenance was a dubious thing to receive from a dragon. One never knew what sort of treachery it could be perpetrating. But Jared’s stomach had always been strong in voicing its opinions, and rich stew was so much harder to turn down than the soft bedding and warm woolens that the dragon kept trying to foist upon him.

The dragon left the store room unguarded in an attempt to lure Jared to take his offers of comfort. It would be easy enough for Jared to take clothing and food and run while the dragon was away. But thievery would enrage a dragon to wrath. They would burn down entire towns and murder humans without a single thought.

Jared knew this, but that wasn’t the reason that he stayed. It was his excuse, and he knew it. As much as he knew that he should go, he remained in the dragon’s lair. Each time that the dragon shifted from his false, deceitful human form into his true one, Jared watched from the shadows. Every time that the dragon rose to the skies on its massive wings, Jared stared at his departing form until he disappeared into the horizon.

The pull he felt towards the beast was inescapable, making Jared’s draw to the paintings of its kind seem inconsequential. Just looking at him made Jared’s scales ache. Lust seemed to burn away the blood in his veins, and he would waste precious time digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands to keep from touching himself.

The disgust that Jared knew he should feel never came until after he inevitably gave in to the urge to stroke over the dragon marks that scattered across his body. His hormones would not allow his higher brain to function until he tugged on his manhood and spent himself on the grass that grew outside of the dragon’s lair. Never did Jared touch himself inside the lair lest he leave the slightest trace of scent. He would not let the beast know that he was stirred in such a way.

Each time that he caved he swore to himself it would be the last. Every day he made himself a liar.

Jared could no more make himself leave than he could quell the want that seemed to live in his bones. Knowing that he had already lost the battle to give up on dragons entirely, Jared decided to entrench himself in the dragon’s lair. It kept talking to him about mates and love, but Jared practiced deafness. He could not control his body around the dragon that had ‘saved’ him. He could only imagine what sort of wanton whore he would become around the one that was ‘his.’

No. Jared would remain in his cave of cowardice until he turned old and died. If the stupidly attractive blue dragon had a problem with that, then he could just burn Jared to a crisp.

Maybe that would finally kill the unnatural desires that the curse of the dragons had placed upon him.


End file.
